United We Stand
by Ansela
Summary: Alliances are made and battle lines are drawn as the second war between Voldemort and the light finally begins with a vengance. HPSG-1 xover


Monday 13th June 2004

1200 GMT

In orbit above Earth

"My lord. Our spies on the Tau'ri have reported that the human known as Voldemort wishes to make a deal and ally himself with you. He awaits you on the pitiful landmass known as…" the minor Goa'uld paused to check the notations on a hand-held data pad, "Britain." He didn't look up at the more powerful Goa'uld sitting on the throne that dominated the centre of the ship's Pel'tac, in fear of retribution if he should catch a glimpse of his face. The once handsome host had been scarred for life by the poisoned fangs and claws of a great hunting cat on a minor world under his lord's control. The damage was so immense that not even the restorative powers of the sarcophagus and symbiont combined were able to heal the injuries sustained that day. At length the enthroned Goa'uld spoke, his voice tainted with hate and disgust.

"And what are this human's terms?"

"He wishes your help to win a battle against enemies of his on the Tau'ri. He is of a subspecies of humans, capable of wielding a power that they call magic. His aims are to destroy or enslave all those without this power as well as those amongst his kind who feel that normal humans should be destroyed. He would eagerly ally with you in order to achieve this end, and then rule the planet in your name." The minor Goa'uld stayed on one knee as his master gracefully stood from his throne and started to stalk the length of the Pel'tac towards him. He fought the urge to tremble as the sound of footsteps drew closer, ready for the pain of the hand device, pain that he well deserved for implying that a mere human should be worthy of allying himself with one of the most powerful Goa'uld alive. To his surprise he found himself being pulled to his feet. He gratefully bowed and took his place at the foot of the throne, a place that had been empty ever since his predecessor attempted to kill his master.

"I will ally myself with this Voldemort. Earth has stood against the Goa'uld for too long, and will now feel my wrath. They shall pay for killing my brother. His power was nothing compared to mine. They shall soon experience the full might of Seth, Lord of Darkness and Chaos. Set a course for the Tau'ri at full speed.

**bfagalgbabgabgabgajbvbvxbvsjbksb**

Friday 17th June 2004

0500 GMT

British Embassy

Washington D.C.

The blonde woman perched on top of the high brick wall for a brief moment, her eyes surveying the carefully tended gardens below her. As soon as she was confident that her immediate surroundings were clear and quiet, free of alert guards and curious bystanders, she dropped into the deserted grounds of the British Embassy, Washington DC. As a security light swept across her position she tensed, snapping her head up to watch for accompanying patrols. As the light caught her eyes, they appeared dead, a glazed covering over the sapphire blue gems. As soon as the light passed she sprinted for the basement door, ducking behind statues and fountains every time a light shone her way. She needn't have worried; few in the well-guarded embassy expected anyone to come over the ten metre high back wall of the compound.

Once at the basement door she paused for a second, slipping a black-handled knife out of the black leather sheath on her belt. Nothing on her reflected the meagre amount of light in the area; all her clothes were black, the sidearm at her waist was dull black, her face was blacked out and only a few strands of hair poked out from underneath the black hat that she wore. Even her knife blade had been treated so it absorbed the light instead of reflecting it back. Reaching out an arm, she cautiously pulled at the handle for the basement door, testing to see if it was locked. It opened first try, causing her to smirk slightly, knowing that her job was easier for that bit of unexpected luck. She tightened the grip on her knife however, knowing that unlocked doors meant guards in close proximity. As the Marine came to investigate the opening of the basement door she struck, knocking him out with one blow, and pulling him inside with her before the body hit the floor. She pulled the unconscious Marine over to the lift and pressed his eye against the retina scanner by the door.

As the lift came she surveyed her surroundings impassively, her face expressionless as she looked for weak points and alternative exit routes. When the lift opened she hauled the unconscious Marine into it and lifted his hand to the palm scanner. With this authorisation pass she pressed the button for the lowest basement level, her eyes clearing for a second to reveal their usual sapphire colour, before they dulled to a milky blue.

On the lowest level she stepped out of the lift alone, the Marine nowhere in sight. In her hand was a strange device, shaped like a Z, and crafted to look like a cobra poised to strike. Looking at the camera covering the lift, she waved sarcastically, before lifting the device and firing twice. The camera disintegrated in a burst of indigo and blue light. All other cameras on the long, straight and narrow passageway, built of featureless grey concrete, were treated in the same manner. By the time she'd destroyed the fourth camera an alarm was sounding throughout the embassy building, alerting all of the forty Royal Marines stationed there that something was wrong. With a malicious grin she spun on her heel and fired at the lift controls, causing them to spark violently, before the lights on the display went out. With this final action she turned and stalked down the hallway, heading towards her final target.

Halfway down the corridor she paused. She seemed to stumble as she raised her weapon hand to her forehead, as if she had a headache. Her eyes were completely clear of the cataract like film that had previously covered them, and she looked around in confusion, her eyes eventually settling on the weapon in her hand. She muttered something under her breath, before crying out in pain and clutching at her head with both hands, her body doubling over as she retched. When the fit passed her eyes were once again milky, and the confused look had cleared. She carried on down the corridor.

At the furthest door from the lift she stopped. Her target was in the small, drab cell beyond the thick steel door, She could see him through the plate-glass window, his platinum blonde hair perfectly tidy and an unfazed smirk on his face. It was as if he was sitting in his home relaxing, rather than in a holding cell of the British Embassy in Washington on terrorism charges. Pulling a slim case from her pocket the woman started to work on the door lock. Within seconds the door was open and she was inside the cell.

It took her hardly any time to open the restraints and free the man. He stood up as she dropped to one knee before him, looking down on her as if she was dirt that he'd picked up on his shoe. He clicked his fingers at her demandingly and she produced a thin stick from her pocket and handed it to him. With a few muttered words he vanished, leaving no trace that he was ever in the holding cell.

When the Marines arrived in the cell half an hour later all they found was the blonde woman, looking around her in confusion, her eyes a clear sapphire colour. As looked into the cell she looked straight at them and asked a single question.

"Where am I?"

**bvjabvapanvsvsjbzqbfakbvkvbbvabvxbvksbfsk**

**So, what do you think? Virtual cookie to anyone who guesses who the blonde man is. First chpater will be appearing in about a week. Until then, adios.**


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